21 January 2006

Single Stephen is dying

I told Yoko last night that Single Stephen is dying. Right in front of you. I started pointing to things in my apartment: The John Lennon poster? You think Non-Single Stephen would own something like that? No, I don't think so. Christmas lights? Gone. Posters of favorite sumo wrestlers? Gone.

Yoko just laughed at me, He's dying?
Yes, I said, he's dying.

I also spent a good deal of this afternoon bitching about Japanese culture and closed- mindedness in older Japanese folk. You ever get the feeling that you're not going to be Japanese, no matter how hard you try? I've been getting that feeling a lot lately. It's good because last year I think I had deluded myself into thinking that I was going to become Japanese. Yeah, right, Stephe-o. You're an idiot. The result is less fu-an (or uneasiness for people who can't remember the Japanese they're been taught on this blog--I'm looking your way Tom) because now I can be at peace with who I am. You know, the dude.

The dude without a gut, by the way. That's right, diet trackers, dude is now down 12 pounds on the diet of the stars (tipping the scales at a husky 83.5 kg or 183.7 pounds for you metric illiterates out there). The last time I weighed this much, I was 14, with cut-off jean shorts, a Hawaiian shirt and even more fu-an than now. Things are turning around. No question.

Finally, the Catholic Encyclopedia writes, "When [St. Sebastian] was finally discovered to be a Christian, in 286, he was handed over to the Mauretanian archers, who pierced him with arrows; he was healed, however, by the widowed St. Irene. He was finally killed by the blows of a club. These stories are unhistorical and not worthy of belief."
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